


Take Care of You

by redpenny



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chubby Louis Tomlinson, Domesticity, Established Relationship, M/M, Tummy appreciation, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 13:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpenny/pseuds/redpenny
Summary: Harry blinks at his laptop screen.Then he squints.It's the angle, he decides. An illusion of shadows and light.But then he flips to the next picture and maybe it's not.Louis puts on some relationship weight. Harry notices.





	Take Care of You

Harry blinks at his laptop screen.

Then he squints.

It's the angle, he decides. An illusion of shadows and light.

But then he flips to the next picture and maybe it's not.

Except his Louis doesn't have a round belly, not like the one straining at the white t-shirt in this photo.

Harry would know. That white t-shirt is loose on him. It doesn't even show off the only bit of tummy he _does_ have, the small, sexy little curve under his belly button.

Except that white t-shirt is hugging a chubby belly in the next photo, too. And the next.

What.

Harry is supposed to be the expert on Louis. He's the one who knows he's one-sixteenth Belgian and hates avocados but doesn't notice when Harry sneaks them into his fajitas and that he likes to squeeze into jeans a size too small.

Except are his jeans more than one size too small now? Harry flashes back to the morning Louis had been struggling to tug them on whilst complaining that every pound looked like five on him.

Harry hadn't really been paying attention, though. He hadn't thought Louis had meant he'd gained weight, anyways. Since Harry had met him, he'd always had a couple of extra pounds that he liked to complain about when he forgot he was pretending he still weighed ten stone.

(Having a boyfriend with a couple of extra pounds is the best, as Harry has a tendency to declare whenever he's drunk enough to forget that the declaration always results in Louis petulantly refusing to let him touch his arse for the rest of the night. Even though he _knows_ that touching his arse is Harry's favorite thing to do whilst drunk.)

That morning wasn't that long ago, was it?

Had Louis's jeans actually been tighter than usual back then? They must have been. If Niall's Facebook feed isn't lying, at least.

Harry drops the laptop onto the worktop and follows the sound of trash talking into the other room.

"Lou--" he trails off as he takes Louis in. He's not looking at Harry -- he's got a controller in his hands and all his concentration is on his FIFA game. Sat there on the sofa, his belly strains at his t-shirt -- a different t-shirt than yesterday, even -- and Harry stares.

He can't decide between being offended or incredulous that the stupid camera on Niall's old phone had somehow noticed something he hadn't about his boyfriend.

"Harry!"

Harry's attention is jerked to Liam, who, now that he thinks about it, might have been calling his name for a while now. "What?"

"You're in my way!"

"Oh." Harry glances around. He does seem to have stopped walking in the middle of the room.

"No, stay there, don't move," Louis tells Harry without looking over. "I've almost got this."

Liam sighs noisily and cranes to look around Harry.

Harry tells Louis, "You look good."

"Thanks, love," Louis says distractedly, though he spares him a brief, soft smile.

"I'm right here," Liam complains, still straining to see the telly behind Harry.

Louis's concentration is all back on the telly now, too, and Harry thinks he might be about to score but who cares about FIFA. All Harry can pay attention to is how when he leans forwards in fierce concentration, controller tight in his hands, his tummy comes really close to touching his thighs.

He bites his lip. "No, you look, like, _really_ good, Lou."

That gets his attention. His eyes snap over to him, mouth parting, as the announcer proclaims that he's missed his goal.

"Guys!" Liam complains more loudly. "I'm still right here!"

But then a referee whistle goes off and the game's over and Louis has won anyways.

And then Liam leaves and they're alone and Harry is still standing in the middle of the living room, staring dumbly at his boyfriend.

Louis stands, t-shirt riding up as he does. Harry glances down to where his tummy's exposed but Louis tugs the hem back down before he can get a peek.

"You hungry, Hazza?" Louis says. "I haven't eaten all day."

Harry glances at the bags of crisps scattered around where he and Liam had been sitting.

"That doesn't count," Louis insists, stepping up to rest his hands on Harry's hips. "Weren't you making fajitas tonight, love?"

Right. That's right. Harry had been about to make fajitas. He'd already started cutting up the vegetables when he had been distracted by Niall's new Facebook posts.

He's been taking more than a bit of pride in everything domestic since they'd moved into their own proper flat together and he's been making proper meals every day for the two of them.

As he follows Louis into the kitchen, he decides his jeans _do_ look a bit tighter from behind. Has Louis gained weight because Harry's keeping him well-fed?

He watches Louis covertly all through fixing dinner, while Louis as usual pretends to help but mostly gets in the way.

If Harry had thought about it, he would have assumed that any weight Louis would gain would go straight to his bum. And there's a little there. A little thickening his thighs, too. And maybe softening his cheeks, though it's hard to tell with the evening light casting his cheekbones in shadow.

It's his belly, though, that's so much more noticeably chubby than anywhere else.

How had Harry not noticed? They'd exchanged lazy morning blowjobs in the shower this morning. They'd fucked just last night. And the night before. And -- well, they have sex a lot. And whenever they're not having sex, they're usually cuddling.

But he's noticed _now_. Maybe he's noticed a little too much, because Louis giggles and teases him about the boner tenting his trackies.

("Fried chicken doing it for you now, love?" he says, ghosting a hand over Harry's groin.

"Sauteed, not fried," Harry corrects.

Louis waggles his eyebrows. "Sauteed, is it, then? Kinky.")

Harry can't help it, though. Louis is sexy always, and his clothes are so tantalizingly tight right now and it's being domestic with _Harry_ that's made them that way and that's just --

He's staring. He should stop staring. He's not being subtle. But at least Louis seems too distracted with teasing him about his boner for fajitas to notice.

Louis takes seconds at dinner without hesitating and Harry wonders when he had even starting automatically making extra portions. As soon as he's done eating, he drags Louis into the bedroom. Louis goes along without any resistance, unless teasing Harry about still having a hard-on for the chicken counts.

But Harry is too busy trying to kiss him and take off his t-shirt at the same time to bother with defending himself.

"Come on, Lou, want to see you."

Louis laughs a little, breathlessly, lips already a gorgeous kiss-bitten red. "You really are gagging for it, aren't you?"

"I told you." Harry licks his lips as he watches him strip off his t-shirt. "You look really good."

Louis's cheeks pink just a bit, looking both pleased and self-conscious at the attention. He sucks in when Harry's eyes land on his middle, but it's still so obvious how much softer he's become there. The waistband of his jeans strains underneath what had used to be just a stubborn little pooch.

Harry tugs him in and kisses him again and then they're stripping off the rest of their clothes and Louis is too distracted to bother keeping his tummy sucked in and, god, they come together and their bodies feel so _good_ together.

There's more cushion between them than there used to be, but it doesn't feel new. Harry had noticed it before, he realizes, but he'd put it down to himself being a bit more cushioned since they'd been living together.

He'd stepped on the scale at his sister's flat, curious after noticing that his hipbones seemed a little less prominent, abs a little less visible. He'd weighed barely half a stone over what he'd used to, though. Having three proper meals a day hasn't had the same effect on him as on Louis, he doesn't think. But, then, Harry still keeps up with his morning jogs, and Louis refuses to work out on principle.

Afterwards they're in bed and Louis is combing slow fingers through Harry's hair, relaxed and quiet in a way he only really is right after sex. Harry nestles into his shoulder and presses a lazy hand over the chubby give of his belly.

Relationship weight, he thinks sleepily. Thinks how obvious it had been in those pictures. Anyone can see how well Harry's taking care of him. Louis takes care of him, too. So well. Maybe Harry will start taking more second portions himself so everyone will be able to tell.

He gives Louis's tummy a last satisfied caress and then, yawning, tucks an arm around his newly chubby waist and dreams about matching domestic tummies.


End file.
